


Kaer Morhen

by PersonyPepper



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Immortal Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Protective Vesemir (The Witcher)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 00:29:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29501328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PersonyPepper/pseuds/PersonyPepper
Summary: Kaer Morhen’s not what Jaskier had pictured. He’d imagined spending time with Geralt’s brothers, baking alongside Vesemir, and exploring the old grounds with with Geralt. What he gets is, ignored. Dismissed during after-dinner drinks with claims that he’s too weak to keep up with witchers. Sent out if the kitchen with a gentle smile that implies that he’ll only get in the way of things.Or, Jaskier doesn't thinks he has a place at Geralt; Geralt is too stupid to say otherwise, at first at least.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 11
Kudos: 407





	Kaer Morhen

Kaer Morhen’s not what Jaskier had pictured. He’d imagined spending time with Geralt’s brothers, baking alongside Vesemir, and exploring the old grounds with with Geralt. What he gets is, ignored. Dismissed during after-dinner drinks with claims that he’s too weak to keep up with witchers. Sent out if the kitchen with a gentle smile that implies that he’ll only get in the way of things. 

It makes sense; Jaskier was foolish to come here and expect their acceptance, to assume there’d be space in their hearts for him. He’d had to annoy Geralt for years before he’d finally accepted him. Which is probably why it hurts so awfully when he’s coaxed out of rooms and aways from games of Gwent by his friend, himself. He hadn’t thought he’d be unwanted here, even by Geralt. After all, why would Geralt have invited him if he hadn’t wanted him there. 

And yet, as cold seeps into his bones on another dreary night, he wonders. Decades worth of insecurities prick at his eyes, and he resolves himself to ask Geralt before he falls into a fitful sleep. 

"Why did you bring me here?“ Geralt looks at him for a moment before shrugging. 

"You kept asking.” And Jaskier promises himself he won’t ask again. 

Has their relationship simply been a product of his irking? Quiet nights around fires and shared meals when they’d been both near penniless– had it been around necessity? He asks Roach, the only being that’ll listen to him, and doesn’t notice the bated breath of a witcher from around the corner. 

___

Kaer Morhen has not seen a human in many years, much less a bard. Vesemir curses himself as he stomps through the snow and back into the keep; the eggs can be collected later. When Geralt had brought he bard, he and the rest of his cubs had taken cues from Geralt on how to act around him. And with his gruff pup’s mannerisms, had come to the conclusion that the bard was not to be let in, to be kept at arm’s length. But the boy’s words ring in his ears, talk of how he and Geralt would bathe in cool streams under warm summer suns and sleep curled around one another. 

His son, Vesemir bemoans to himself, had the emotional capacity as deep as the deepest well, but the ability to express it of a rock. And Vesemir, Eskel, and Lambert had been treating the bard the same way. "You love him, don’t you?“ No one brings anyone to the keep. At least, not anyone on the verge of death and requiring immediate aid. The fact that Geralt had allowed Jaskier into their home is immense trust itself, and Vesemir was a fool not to realize sooner. There are only four if them left, and no wolf would put the other in danger. 

Geralt’s face grows carefully blank. He could be damn good at emotions when he wanted to be. At least, damn good at hiding them. "He’s a friend.’”

“Tell him you love him." 

"He’s human.” Geralt’s brow furrows and his lip twists into an unhappy scowl. 

“You’re going to lose him a lot sooner than you’re willing if you keep this up,” Vesemir says. He goes down the stairs to find the bard staring forlornly into the fire, furs bundled around him in the picture of lonely sadness. Vesemir invites him to make sweet buns with him, and the boy follows, delighted and, ruefully, apprehensive. 

___

The change is sudden and Jaskier has not an idea where it comes from. Vesemir invites his help in the kitchen, and stays up with him to exchange stories and share a nightcap. Eskel and Lambert pull further away, likely not knowing how to act around him considering Geralt still ignored him at every turn and Vesemir treats him like a friendly guest. 

Still, Jaskier does not allow himself to grow illusioned. The old wolf likely saw Jaskier in a pile of self pity and took mercy on him. Kaer Morhen has no space for him, and neither do the four wolves that live within it. He takes simple pleasures and refuge in the kindness Vesemir treats him to and tries to find reprieve from the fact that his friend hasn’t talked to him past greeting in weeks. 

___

Seeing Jaskier in Kaer Morhen unsettles something in Geralt. His friend is in his home, and Geralt finds that he feels like the piece that had been missing for so long. His music cheers up dreary hallways, and mourns with them when they are silent. His voice is curious, constant in his eagerness to learn and to aid. And at night, when Geralt wishes him good sleep, it’s an awful thing to watch him retreat to his room as opposed to Geralt’s bed. 

Geralt is in love with Jaskier. He’s known this for a long time, but hadn’t known the depth of it till he’d seen his bard’s cheek smeared with flour and his body radiating delight as he regaled Geralt’s father figure with a story of a successful hunt. Geralt only resolves to push himself further away when blue eyes catch him staring. 

___

Jaskier had been lucky enough to never have stepped foot on enemy ground. Nilfgaard was slow in its supposed conquering, but he images it’s what Geralt must feel like. Like Jaskier does not belong amongst the grey walls of his home, like he is an intruder having snuck in. He catches him staring, amber eyes digging into him as they had in a little tavern in Posada. 

Jaskier had thought they’d been past that hostility after two decades of travel and supposed friendship, but apparently not. He’s careful as he places the sweet buns in the oven, and fabricates an excuse the next time Vesemir asks for his help. He’d rather be bound to his room than prove a discomfort in Geralt’s own home.

___

Eskel does not see the bard the day after, or the next. From what he gathers, Jaskier is not a bad man, but Geralt is his brother and he will always take his opinion over a stranger’s appearances. He can admit, though, that he misses the bard’s song, even if it’d been overly cheery in the forsaken keep. He trains longer in the courtyard, under a corner roof that keeps the stone from snow, and decides to keep his distance. 

___

He’s being an ass and he knows it. It’s rude not to meet your gracious hosts for meals, and yet, he hides in his room. Far gone is the perception that Geralt had been his friend all this time; he thinks back to every happy memory between them and realizes that he’d been nothing but a liability and nuisance all along. He won’t bother the witcher anymore, and as soon as frost gives way to dew, he’s resolute to leave the witcher blessedly alone. 

___

“Where’s that bard of yours?” Lambert rarely trusts, and even less often trusts readily. He’d think the bard some kind of snoop or spy in reaction to his absence. That was, of course, if he didn’t smell the musty scent of tears and miserable sadness every time he passed the bard’s lonesome room. Geralt looks at him, impassive as if he’s half disassociated from it all, and Lambert wants to shove him for it. 

As it is, he shoved snow down the seat of the White Wolf’s pants before he’s promptly thrown into a snowbank by his white-haired brother. He does not forget the sniffles he hears when he passed Jaskier’s room, but pretends not to hear them all the same. 

___

Jaskier cannot take this anymore. His bags are packed and his fur boots pulled up his feet. Geralt had told him tales of The Killer back when Jaskier had thought them to be gentle friends, and he figures he’d rather risk the snowed over trail of death than another day causing misery in the keep. Geralt had told him how joyful and free the witchers were in the wintertime under the safety of their own roof, and though Jaskier still sees it, their actions are a little halted and weary. 

He does not thank Vesemir for his hospitality, but leaves a kind note of appreciation having him, and am apology for having caused such disrupt in everyone’s winter. He leaves through a part between Kaer Morhen’s imposing gates, and whispers one last goodbye to Geralt, his long time muse and friend. He wishes he could apologize for the trouble he’s caused, and thank Geralt for putting up with him despite… everything about him. But, he does not want to bother him, nor does he want to bother his family any further. He quietly closed the gates behind him and begins his truck down the treacherous mountain path. 

___

Lambert cannot hear Jaskier’s quiet sniffling. Vesemir’s sweet buns, left by the bard’s door, remain untouched. Eskel has not heard a single sound of his melodic voice. Geralt notices. 

___

Poor lad. They’d found him near delirious with cold, fingers achingly red. Vesemir tuts at the bard’s damp furs before beginning to undress the unconscious bard. Geralt looks rightfully ashamed, and Eskel looks between his brother and the bard with confusion. Lambert is busy swearing at the bathwater’s refusal to hear faster despite his raging ignii’s. 

___

Jaskier wakes to warmth, and snuggles back against the content heat. Perhaps he’s dead, perhaps he’s not; he doesn’t care as much as long as that great, numbing cold has left him. A thick arm wraps around his waist, and a broad hand spreads flat against Jaskier’s hirsute chest. Jaskier goes willing into the embrace, and falls back asleep with content. 

__

Geralt damns himself as Jaskier’s icy skin presses to the warmth of his chest. His bard had nearly died, certainly would have if they hadn’t found him. Geralt smooths his friend’s hair away from his face. Vesemir had been right; he’ll lose Jaskier before he’s willing to let him go.

___

Jaskier wakes to sunlight streaming upon his face and the lulling snores of Geralt behind him. Fuck, then he hasn’t succeeded in his mission to ease his distress at all. He swears as he gets redressed, the threat of hypothermia gone from his fingers. A hand wraps around his wrist before he can get away. 

Geralt is perfect. Kind and beautiful, fierce and protective. He glows in pale morning light, hair haloing above his head. His face is in a perpetual frown, though it seems deeper than usual today. Jaskier wants to break down crying. How much distress has he caused this good man simply by existing within his life? Jaskier not only doesn’t fit in Kaer Morhen, but he does not fit in Geralt’s life either. 

___

“I love you,” the words rasp as they leave him, his courage hanging on by a thin thread. Geralt sits in bed, hand curled around Jaskier’s wrist. “I’m sorry.” It’s not enough, if the anguish in his friend’s face is anything to go by. Geralt has faced armies, and yet, he is a coward. Having turned away from his friend for no true reason, and having caused him so much pain that he’d deigned it better to run away from him… Geralt inches closer to his bard. “I’m sorry,” he says again. 

“You’ve fine nothing wrong. It’s me who should be apologizing’” he sounds so sad that Geralt cannot take it, cannot breathe around the regret and melancholy that surrounds him, “for having caused you so much distress, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for tagging along, and being blind to your discomfort of our,” Jaskier laughs, dry and ironic; it’s a sound Geralt immediately loathes coming from his bard, “supposed friendship.” Geralt realizes how badly he’s messed up as Jaskier nervously thumbs over the pads I’d his fingers, a slow tear dripping down his cheek. 

___

“I was stupid. I was,” his voice grows quieter, “afraid. Ironically, I was afraid of you dying.” Before me goes unsaid, but hangs heavily in the air between them. "I love you Jaskier. I have loved you for a long while, as both a friend, and something more.” The words are easier to come now, and Geralt is glad for them despite his regrets of not having said them earlier. “If you’ll have me, I’d like to be something more with you." 

Perhaps he’s still dying, hallucinating and frozen on the side of the Blue Mountains. But Geralt’s hand is warm around his, and he can hear the even calm of his breath despite his confessions. "I cannot have you if you treat me like this,” he ventures, unsure if Geralt would be cruel enough to play such vile a joke on him,“I do not take well to being hurt. And,” he paused, hesitates, “do you truly love me, Geralt? Or is this another ploy to make me feel better?” Soft lips press against his, and another tear drips down Jaskier’s cheek. 

___

Jaskier’s lips are cracked with cold, and they do little else but brush their lips. Yet, it is the most perfect kiss Geralt has even given, ever received. “I love you,” he whispers, “I’m sorry for hurting you, Jaskier, I’m sorry for it all. But what I feel is not compensation, it’s something more." 

Jaskier smiles at him, bright despite how small and tired it is. "Then, I would like something more with you." 

Kaer Morhen will always have a place for Jaskier the Master Bard. Eskel and Lambert teach him how to scale the walls and beams of the old keep, and Vesemir teaches him the recipes of old stashed deep within still shelves. He has space in Geralt’s bed, and a chamber in each of the Wolves’ hearts. His hands fit perfectly in his lover’s, and he fits perfectly in each one of their lives. 

___

He wonders when they’ll begin noticing that he doesn’t age; Geralt has the revelation a year later, and buys them a pair of rings the very next day. 

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr :) come say hi!](https://persony-pepper.tumblr.com)


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